Don't Drive Faster
by Lady White Dragon
Summary: Don't drive faster than your guardian angel can fly.
1. Chapter 1

Don't Drive Faster

A collaboration by Lady Whitehaven and Suzanne of Dragons Breath

Authors Note: 2 Babes + massive sleep dep + 14 hour road trip this fic. We have no clue what we were on when one of us came up with the idea at 2 am. We aren't even sure which of us came up with it.

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Did you ever have one of those days where you just can't stay out of trouble? Welcome to my life. My name is Sera, I'm a twelfth rank guardian angel, and I have the dubious pleasure of shepherding one Stephanie Plum through life. I was only fourth rank when I started, but advancement has been quick thanks to some of her escapades. I could have done without the honor.

Steph's childhood adventures weren't that bad, though I wish she hadn't jumped off the roof. Have you any idea how difficult it is to change the angle of descent to keep a kid from breaking her neck?

This bounty hunting gig has given me quite a workout. I haven't been pushed so hard since I had to arrange for her to walk in on The Dick screwing The Skank. The woman attracts psychos like Orlando Bloom attracts fangirls.

Which leads me to now. Stephanie is currently locked –with her own handcuffs, no less- to a chain link fence outside of a schoolyard, enriching the students' vocabulary. It would be an easy matter to unlock the cuffs, except that the keys are in her handbag. Which is at least a foot out of her reach. She's enough to drive an angel to drink.

At least this is an easy enough problem to solve. There's a breeze today, so I use it to mask the fact that I kicked her bag over. Now it's close enough that she can hook the strap with her foot. At least she notices this on her own. It's possible for a guardian angel to give a mental nudge to her charge, but it is so much easier when we don't have to.

Moments later, she has the cuffs unlocked and is once again chasing her skip, but it's a lost cause. He took advantage of her brief incarceration to drive off.

I realize that she found doing computer work for Manoso boring, but a part of me wishes she hadn't gone back to skip chasing for Vinnie after they caught Stiva. I may have gotten tired of reminding Steph that she was with Morelli and shouldn't flirt with Manoso, but she got shot at less. As the individual responsible for keeping her from being hit by those bullets, I really should have a say in the decision.

And speaking of the men in her life, I wish she would just pick one, already. At this point, I don't care which one it is! I'm tired of the glares their angels keep giving me. It's not _my_ fault she can't make up her mind! I have enough to do, just keeping her alive!

I relax as she gets into Big Blue. Steph and company joke that this car is indestructible, and she's not far wrong. Sandor already had a few protections on it, and when I saw the way Steph's car luck was running, I traded in a few favors to make the car the equivalent of a mobile bomb shelter. (Pun not intended).

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	2. Chapter 2

**Don't Drive Faster **

Disclaimer: Oops. We forgot this one. We don't own them. If we did, then our money, souls, lives, and firstborn children wouldn't belong to our college. All the characters will be returned, even Ranger. Maybe.

Authors' notes: Thanks for all of the reviews. As you can see, Don't Drive Faster is indeed being continued J We don't hold any responsibility for destruction of property that might result from reading this fic while drinking.

* * *

Though I do wish Steph would stick to the Buick because of the protection on the thing, I like the Duc. Normally I climb into (or onto) the car with her, which has the added advantage of keeping her skips from trying anything. With the Duc, I fly. Some angels are unfortunate enough to be earthbound, but thanks to Steph's desire to fly, I get wings. The Powers That Be know I need them! There are very few things more fun than zooming above a highway at 65 mph, dodging streetlights, signs, and power lines.

Even though she's not working for Manoso full time anymore, he told her to keep the bike. Something about her record with his cars and the fact that the bike might survive her. It's been 5 months and so far it has survived, though some of that is probably because she doesn't drive it when she has to pick up skips.

This afternoon she's just trying to track down a skip named Jacob Bowman, a 40-something construction worker who robbed a liquor store.

We arrive at the site rather quickly, not that there was a flagrant breech of the posted speed limit, but have I mentioned that I fly quite fast when necessary?

The foreman was a huge muscular man, running slightly to fat, in short, pretty much what a person would expect. His guardian angel, on the other hand, looked about ten years younger and went three shades whiter when he saw me. Steph has something of a reputation among the angels in the area. They might be slightly jealous of my quick advancement, but not so much that they want Steph within a three mile radius of their charge.

A few whispers in his charge's ear results in the foreman thrusting a hardhat in to Steph's hands, and insisting that she wear it at all times on the site.

Steph wants to refuse, but after a not-so-metaphorical kick in the ass on my part, she puts it on with only a token protest. Basic safety assured, I settle in to watch the show.

"Does he have any friends who might be hiding him?" Steph asks.

The foreman shrugs. What is it with Steph and reticent males? "I told you before, he mostly keeps to himself."

"Do you mind if I talk to some of his coworkers? One of them might have an idea of where he is."

Steph, wandering around a construction site. On her own. No, NO, **NO**, **NO,** **_NO_**!

"Sure." I glare at the foreman's angel, who responds with an Italian hand gesture of which Steph is rather fond. If I wasn't so busy protecting her, I'd kick his ass. Maybe the foreman wants to ride in one of Steph's cars.

I _really_ don't like construction. In the 50 yard walk, I have to steer her out of the way of several falling objects, a couple of tripping hazards, and one large pit.

Steph was halfway through questioning yet another big, brawny, smelly man, with an equally big, brawny smelly angel, when I froze. Guardian angels are not generally prescient, but when you have spent as much time as I have around Stephanie Plum as I have, you start to get a feel for certain things. Like right now. Steph is out of sight of the bike. SHIT! The bike!

A rather panicked mental nudge sends Steph sprinting back towards the parking lot. It was a rather easier trip this time, sometimes I think other angels deliberately steer stuff in to Steph's path, just to make me sweat.

Oh Shit.

Well, at least we found Bowman. Unfortunately, he is currently sitting in the cab of a cement truck. And we won't be using the bike to chase him down. You know how some Hard Rock Cafés have the back end of a car mounted on to the wall so it looks like it's actually driving into a wall? Yeah.

Bowman dumped a good bit of cement on to the back end of the Ducati. The handle bars and front end were still visible. It's not going anywhere anytime soon.

I just stood there and seethed. Steph wasn't so calm.

"You fucking asshole!" She screeched and ran for Bowman. As if I don't have enough problems! How the hell am I supposed to keep her safe if she keeps pulling stunts like this?

Bowman took one look at Steph, and his angel at me, and they simultaneously come to the one solution that would let them both survive. Bowman hits the gas and takes off down the street, still trailing cement.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Don't Drive Faster 3

Disclaimer: We don't own them. We only wish we did. Especially Ranger.

Authors' Notes: First, thanks to all who reviewed. We appreciate it. Second, be warned. This chapter is NOT Cupcake friendly.

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I've been in this guardian angel gig for a couple of centuries now. For most of the women I've watched, the most dangerous thing I've had to worry about has been childbirth. After all, dangerous situations are how an angel advances in rank, and dangerous situations were few and far between for women until recently. Then I got assigned to Stephanie Plum, and I thought it would be more of the same. Sweet little girl, born to two normal parents in a typical Burg household, with a well-behaved older sister, who was expected to become a typical Burg housewife. Not a challenge, I thought.

Okay, so her childhood was filled with more than the normal amount of scrapes. Like the dive she took off of the roof. And with Morelli in the garage. Well, anything involving Morelli- although I did enjoy the Buick incident. Seeing Morelli's angel, Elmo, splattered flat on the windshield, cursing me out was priceless. He shouldn't have distracted me during the Tasty Pastry incident. Payback's a bitch, ain't it?

I thought she was past that. She went to college, got married and settled in to a typical Burg live. Even after the divorce, she had a respectable job, an apartment, and a hamster. Then the shit hit the fan.

I wasn't trained to be the angel of a bounty hunter, but I learned damn quick. I wanted excitement, but not in the form of homicidal stalkers, and not in the form of car destruction.

I've actually gotten used to cars dying. It's not fun, but it's better than dealing with the fallout. Used car salesmen's angels get this damn smug look.

Which leads to now. Half the Trenton PD is currently standing around the pile of cement and metal that used to be a functioning motorcycle. Damn it! I liked the bike.

Carl Costanza walked up to us, a huge grin on his face. "Shit, Steph. Next time let us know when you're gong to be near a construction site. I don't think anyone bet that the Duc would get cemented."

Steph turned bright red, though I'm not sure if it was from anger or embarrassment. Fortunately, it's not my job to save her from this type of situation.

"It's not my fault!" Steph exclaimed.

Carl opened his mouth to reply, but his eyes refocused on something over Steph's shoulder, and he shut his mouth with an audible snap. Damn. Now what do I have to deal with? I turned to look. Double damn. Morelli. And Elmo. They're both _pissed._

"Sera." Elmo's voice sounds remarkably like Morelli's, suppressed rage and all.

I just arched an eyebrow.

"Why the hell aren't you keeping a better eye on your charge?"

Oh no, he didn't. I can't speak. With that one sentence, he managed to cut the last shred of my already taxed patience. He took advantage of my silence to continue.

"How many cars has she blown up? Can't you even keep your eye on one substandard bounty hunter? And why are you encouraging her? You are just taking advantage of her profession to advance yourself."

The small part of my brain that wasn't consumed with rage noted that Steph was receiving a similar lecture from Morelli.

Apparently we've been together too long, because we're beginning to think alike. Morelli and Elmo hit the ground at the same time, clutching a rather sensitive portion of their respective anatomies. I didn't realize an angel could turn that color. Or make those noises.

I'm not sure how long I stood there just fuming, but I calmed when I felt another angel pop in behind me. I turned. Alejandro. That means Ranger is- just approaching Steph. I relaxed slightly. This had the potential to be a good show.

Alejandro walked towards me. He took one look at the figure writhing on the ground and put his arm around my shoulder, shaking his head slightly. "Sere."

Alejandro is a lot like his charge, both in looks and personality. Fortunately, he doesn't piss me off nearly as much as Elmo does. I think it has something to do with the fact that I didn't meet him until I started to advance quickly through the ranks, whereas I have known Elmo since Steph and Morelli were kids. He just can't get used to the idea that I outrank him now.

We turned to watch the show.

By this time, Ranger had just reached Steph. He placed a hand on the back of her neck, causing Steph to whirl around to face him. He took a step back. "Easy, Babe."

He turned her away from Morelli to face the pile of cement and raised an eyebrow.

"It wasn't my fault!"

"Babe." He steered her away from the crowd towards his car.

She went on to explain exactly what had happened, sounding more and more upset as she went along. By the end of the tale, she was nearly in hysterics.

I looked back at Morelli, who had finally managed to get to his knees, hands still on his crotch. "Off to _earn_ another car from Manoso, _Babe_?" His tone left no doubt to anyone just what he thought she would do to earn it.

Beside me, Alejandro stiffened, and Steph turned away from Ranger's car and glared. Every observer could tell that if he was within her reach, Morelli would be on the receiving end of another boot to his balls.

"Fuck you, Morelli!" Steph spat out, and got in to Ranger's car.

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	4. Chapter 4

Don't Drive Faster 4

Disclaimer: We still don't own them. Although neither of us would mind getting a Ranger (real or clone) for Christmas.

Authors notes: Sorry it's been so long since the last update. School kind of came around to bite us in the ass. Plus road trips at midnight aren't all that conducive to writing. But to make up for it, we have a longer chapter for you. Thanks to all who reviewed!

There are several fantasy references. Spot all of them and a hint to what is coming next.

* * *

"I wonder if either of them needs a retrieval operation."

Alejandro's remark managed to jar me from my plans to remove certain body parts from certain guardian angels. I couldn't stifle the snicker. "I hope so." I said, grinning evilly.

Alejandro shook his head. "I'm glad it's not me you're mad at Sere."

I snorted, coming completely out of my rage. It's a damn good thing Steph and I are with Alejandro and Ranger. I hadn't been paying attention to my surroundings. Any random loony or psycho could have snuck up on me in that state. "Constant vigilance" is the watch phrase for any guardian angel, especially any that get within a half mile of Steph, and that goes double for her own guardian.

"Sorry," I muttered. "That asshole just gets on my nerves."

Alejandro shrugged and raised an eyebrow. "Understandable."

Ranger interrupted us from the front seat, not that he knew he was doing it of course. "Where to, Babe?"

Steph frowned, and I could almost follow the thoughts as they raced through her mind. Alternative 1: her apartment. Rex was there, and no one would lecture her, and maybe she could convince Ranger to make sure that there weren't any psychos waiting for her. On the other hand, no car and it was unlikely that the food fairy had visited her to fill her empty refrigerator.

Alternative 2: Ranger's apartment. It had Ranger. And Ella. And Ella's cooking, but Steph doesn't have the guts to ask.

Alternative 3: Her parents' house. She would get lectured. Grandma Mazur's there. Her sister's family would be there. It's dinner time. The answer is inevitable.

"My parents'." Ranger arched an eyebrow. "By now my mom has heard about me and Morelli. I need to get over there and do damage control before she starts ironing the toilet paper."

"Babe," Ranger said, and pointed the car towards the Burg.

Steph groaned and sat back in her seat. "My mother is going to kill me."

We finished the ride in silence, though for different reasons. Ranger was in his driving zone, Steph and I were fuming and plotting doom, and Alejandro was wisely keeping out of the line of fire.

Ranger pulled the car to a smooth stop in front of the Plum house. Steph started to get out of the car, and Ranger stopped her with a hand on her thigh. "Proud of you, Babe."

Steph got out of the car and stood there stunned as he pulled away. With a small shrug she turned towards the house.

Her mother and grandmother were waiting at the door, per usual. Her grandmother was obviously happy, and her mother anything but. And the angels were worse.

Abrianna is Steph's mom's guardian angel, and like most, she reminds me a lot of her charge. She is prim, proper, and pure Burg. She is very good at the guardian duties that fall within her realm of experience, like dealing with husbands and children, but she's not very flexible. And she doesn't like me at all. While most guardian angels like the guardian of their charge's children because they keep them out of most trouble, and keep them alive and well, Abrianna blames me for every single scrape Steph has gotten into. Like it's my fault Steph does what she wants, when she wants. It's all I can do to keep her alive in the process.

Mabyn, Grandma Mazur's guardian on the other hand is currently dressed as a Vegas showgirl. Guardian angels may be immortal, but we tend to resemble our charges, so while Mabyn doesn't look quite as old as Grandma Mazur, she doesn't look young, either. I did **_NOT_** need to see that much of her. Crazy wardrobe aside, I like the woman. She usually takes my side.

"I heard you kicked Elmo in the nuts!" Mabyn said cheerfully, as Grandma Mazur congratulated Steph for doing the same to Morelli. The guardian angel grapevine rivals the human grapevine for speed.

"_Stephanie Belinda Plum!_" Ouch, all three names. "What were you thinking, kicking Joseph? How are you going to get anyone to marry you if you kick your boyfriend there?"

I tuned out the rest of the rant. I've heard it, or similar ones, too many times. Unfortunately, this meant that Abrianna started in on me.

"Sera, how could you let her do this? If you were a halfway decent guardian you'd be encouraging your charge to marry the Morelli boy. Elmo is such a nice angel…"

This is the second time in 30 minutes that I have been called an incompetent guardian angel. The first time resulted in Elmo's balls being introduced to his throat. Unfortunately, I can't do the same to Abrianna, as much as she asks for it. That doesn't mean I'll put up with this shit though. She's not my mother.

"Shut up, Abrianna. You do not dictate what is best for my charge. Steph tried the whole Burg wife bit. Been there, done that, not going back. Morelli just accused her of being a whore, why the hell would she put up with that?"

"Well, what else would he think, what with her going off with that bounty hunter?"

I didn't bother to answer. That woman will twist everything into her own skewed version of reality. Steph and I pushed past our respective tormentors and entered the house.

Steph thinks her family is crazy. She only has to deal with half of it. Mary Alice may want to be a horse, but Filipina has a horse. It has a white coat, blue eyes, and answers to Sayvil. Don't ask.

Mrs. Plum ushers the humans into the dining room, and the rest of us retreat to the living room. It's not as crowded, and—despite Grandma Mazur—they aren't in much danger at the dinner table.

"Is it true?" Val's angel, Maia, asked. "Did Steph really knee Morelli?"

I want to scream. She already knows the answer; she had to have been listening to the argument in the doorway. After all her charge has been doing—a certain foray as a lesbian and an unplanned pregnancy spring to mind—Maia has no room to talk. "It's no more than Val should have done to Steve." Have I mentioned before that we don't exactly get along?

"It's not like you handled Steph's marriage any better."

"I managed to end it before The Dick ran off with the babysitter and the savings. And was running off to Florida the best way to get Val married off again?"

Verence winced. He hadn't exactly tried to stop them. In fact, he was instrumental in keeping Maia from interfering. It's only because guardian angels can Pop in next to their charges that she wasn't left behind. She's still giving him hell for it. I feel sorry for him. He shouldn't have to put up with Maia just because his charge is marrying Val.

"Personally, I think kneeing Morelli is the best thing she could have done," Mabyn interjected. "After all, didn't that bounty hunter with the nice package bring her over here? And his guardian ain't bad looking either."

I groaned. Sometimes we tend to take after our charges a bit too much. "Why me?" I asked myself quietly.

"Sayvil says the answer is 42." Filipina said.

We just looked at her. We aren't sure if Sayvil actually talks to Filipina, or if Filipina just attributes certain remarks to her. We also aren't certain we want to know.

It was silent for a while. We had no idea how to answer that. We were saved from answering by Steph's voice from the other room.

"You want me to WHAT!"

This can't be good.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Don't Drive Faster

Disclaimer: Lady White Dragon does not own Steph Plum or anything associated with it. If Janet E. is willing to give us Ranger though…

Authors' Notes: Thanks to all who reviewed. Here's the next chapter. School has come to bite us a bit…its "dead week," meaning we wish we were dead 'cause it's the week before finals.

Oh, before I forget…the fantasy references:

1) "Constant vigilance" – Mad Eye Moody's catch phrase, Harry Potter

2) Sayvil- Kerowyn's rather…unique Companion, Mercedes Lackey

3) Verence- The fool-turned-king from Diskworld, Terry Pratchett

4) 42- The ultimate answer to life, the universe and everything- Hitchhikers' Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams

There is one sci-fi reference from David Webber's Honor Harrington series. Catch the line, get a hint.

* * *

I was right.

It is the Wednesday after the Duc was destroyed, and I am currently perched up in the drop down ceiling tiles of the Trenton Elementary School cafeteria, and The Powers That Be couldn't force me to go down there.

Steph is currently giving a talk to Mary Alice's Girl Scout troop about being a woman in a male dominated profession.

Val "volunteered" Steph, without Steph's prior knowledge, and got Steph to agree under threat of no dessert- Val enlisted Mrs. Plum for help with this one.

Steph didn't think it would be that bad. Hope springs eternal. The girls did hang on to her every word, mostly to hear about the explosions. I think about half of them are contemplating a career in bond enforcement. I also think about 2/3s of their angels are planning my death. I think I'll stay up here.

At least I'm not being given the elementary school third degree.

"Miss Plum, did you really blow up the funeral home?"

"It wasn't my fault!" I could almost hear the gears turning as Steph tried to figure out an answer that a) they would understand and b) wouldn't cause their mothers to hunt her down. Fortunately, she was saved by their short attention spans.

"Miss Plum, do you have a boyfriend?"

Not that that was any better.

"No."

"But my mommy says she saw you kissing some black man."

Steph just turned red. I'm not sure if she is embarrassed, peeved, or contemplating homicide. All three are equally likely.

The leaders cut off the question and answer period. "Okay girls, it's time for crafts!" I guess their maternal instincts finally overcame their desire for more gossip. "Now thank Miss Plum for coming."

Twelve voices chorused "Thank you, Miss Plum," in the way only school children can.

Trina Zambowski, one of the leaders, started thanking Steph for talking to the girls and told her that she was welcome to stay.

Steph obviously wanted out of there as fast as Big Blue's V8 would go, but there were two large buckets of worms and dirt on a back table. She'll stay.

Steph wandered over to the crafts table, ostensibly to help, but in reality, to take her attention off the snack. She hadn't had dirt since she was kicked out of the Girl Scouts in 3rd grade.

The girls were decorating flower pots for their mothers, and someone had the rather foolish idea that glitter would look pretty on them.

Idiot.

Predictably, one of the girls soon whined, "She got glitter on my flowerpot, and I didn't want it there!"

"Nichole, apologize to Jane."

"Sorry." I didn't realize such a little kid could sound so insincere. While the apology satisfied the leader, it did nothing to mollify Jane. She should be retaliating in 5, 4, 3, 2… and there goes a handful of glitter. And another. Within moments, a full scale glitter war had broken out.

Fun. Maybe I'll come down out of here after all. I'm not on clean-up duty.

Maybe Girl Scouts isn't so bad after all. Glitter is flying everywhere, despite the leaders' attempts to stop the barrage. The fight is every girl for herself, but the angels are split. Half, including the leaders' angels, are trying to stop the fight, while the other half, myself included, are trying to make sure that glitter gets everywhere. I feel like I'm in a snow globe.

There is also a third group, consisting entirely of Filipina and Sayvil. I'm not sure what they're trying to accomplish, but it involves galloping full tilt around, under, and occasionally over chairs, tables, and people.

One of the leaders tries flickering the lights to get the girls' attention, but it doesn't quite work as she planned. One of the girls yells, "Disco!" Not entirely accurate, but still fun.

The other leader, Trina, is much more creative. "If everybody doesn't stop right now, nobody gets snack." The silence that followed was deafening.

Within minutes, the room was sparkling clean. Meaning that despite many efforts to clean it, it still sparkled. The custodians are not going to be happy about this.

The parents start to arrive as the girls sit down to eat their worms, dirt, and glitter. The looks on their faces are priceless. I get the distinct impression that many of the girls are going to be hosed down before they are permitted in the house.

Now would be a good time to escape, and Steph obviously agrees with me. She grabs Mary Alice and drags her towards Big Blue.

Uh oh. I guess no one informed Morelli that he and Steph are in their off again stage, because he is leaning against the drivers side door of the car.

"What the fu-" She darts a look at Mary Alice, "-udge are you doing here, Joe?"

He pushed off the door. "Can't a guy check up on his girlfriend?" His smug grin was matched only by Elmo's. And, while Joe is Steph's responsibility, I can do something about Elmo's grin.

**_FWHOOM!_** I shake out my wings, "accidentally" covering Elmo in glitter. "Oops. So sorry, Elmo, my wings itched."

Elmo didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He was somewhat less than amused. Filipina, on the other hand, was laughing her ass off. Hell, even the horse was laughing.

"I'm glad to see you doing something...maternal for a change, Cupcake."

"Up yours, Morelli!" Steph shoves Morelli out of the way, getting glitter on him as well, though not as much as Elmo. If I have my way, they will be in their off again stage permanently. I hope he's going to the cop shop.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

Don't Drive Faster

Disclaimer: Despite how much we begged, we didn't get Ranger for Christmas. Or any other of JE's characters. She still owns them all.

Authors' notes: Oops. It's been a bit, but then, we've been on break, so we didn't see each other at all, not to mention we were both working our butts off. But here's the latest chapter.

* * *

I've always wondered how that man could pack so many meanings into one word. It's just four letters, but it can mean anything from "get out of bed, you're going running," to "There goes another car," to "You look sexy."

This time, the "Babe" clearly means "what the hell have you been rolling in?" We're just back from Girl Scouts and Val's rant, still covered in glitter. Ranger and Alejandro are sitting inside the apartment. At least I recognize Alejandro's aura through the door, so I'm not surprised when we walk into the apartment.

Steph, on the other hand, jumps almost a foot, showering the carpet with glitter. She just shoots Ranger a death glare. This is a sure sign she's pissed; normally she lives in terror of being sent to a third world country.

"Don't ask. I'm taking a shower." She continues to the bedroom, leaving a trail of glitter in her wake.

"Need some help, Babe?" The only reply is the slam of a bedroom door. Ranger just raises an eyebrow.

Alejandro walks over to me. "Shit, Sera, what have you been up to? I thought you just had that Girl Scout thing today?"

"We were at that Girl Scout meeting."

"I take it that it was as bad as you thought it would be?"

"Shit, no! Do you have any idea how much fun a glitter war is? And I got to cover Elmo with it after!"

Alejandro burst out laughing. "How the hell did you manage that?"

"He and Morelli were waiting for us when we left the meeting. Apparently, Joe doesn't think a knee to the balls constitutes a break up.

"Does it? Steph's always gone back to him before."

I'm very close to introducing him to the concept, personally and painfully, but I realize that he does have a point, as much as I hate to admit it. My laughter fades. "Powers That Be know. I don't think she'll go back to him, but I didn't think she would last time, either."

He snorts. "Whatever you say, Sere."

"Besides, if he was going to the station directly from the school, that might drive another wedge between them."

"Do tell?"

"He's rather sparkly right now."

"Is there anyone who didn't end up covered in that crap?"

"Nope. And you and Ranger should probably brush off before you leave."

He looks down at himself. "Shit."

"It's not that bad. Val made Mary Alice hose off in the yard-uniform, shoes, and all- before she was allowed in the house. She said something about not contaminating her house."

"You're kidding."

"Not a bit. And it won't even help. Filipina _hates _to get wet. She managed to avoid the spray, despite Maia's best efforts.

"Oh." We hear the blow dryer click on in the next room.

"Imagine June Cleaver, rolling pin in hand, chasing after a Valkerye on a white horse. Sayvil alone had enough glitter in her mane and tail to coat the house."

Steph chooses that moment to come back into the room, and plops down on the couch next to Ranger.

"That bad, Babe?"

"Have you any idea how annoying a group of Girl Scouts can be? I've spent the last couple of hours answering questions like 'do you have a boyfriend?' 'why aren't you married' and 'my mom saw you kissing some black ma-'" She turns red. Somehow, I don't think Steph meant to say that.

Ranger's only reply is a wolf grin. He hands her a folder. "Got a job for you, Babe."

Steph opens the folder. I'm at the wrong angle to read it over her shoulder. Damn.

"It's the usual drill?" She asks, "Short skirt, FMP's, lots of cleavage?"

Ranger grins again. Why can't he speak like a normal person?

"Babe." This 'Babe' evidently means "Hell, yeah!"

I can see Steph mentally going through her wardrobe, a slight smile on her face. I _hate _these things. This is one of those times I wish she realized just what she was putting me though. She's not the only one who has to dress up. The skips might be dumb, but their guardians aren't. If Steph's going in all slutted up, and I still look like my normal kick-ass self, they'll realize something is up.

I _really _hate these things.

Ranger gets up to go. He's not one for small talk. He stops by the door and pulls Steph into a kiss. That's one way to short-circuit her mental processes. He pushes something into her hand. "You might need this."

He's out the door before she regroups enough to look. It's a car key.

* * *


	7. Interlude

Don't Drive Faster

Disclaimer: Coll, put him back. He's Janet's. They're all Janet's. No, we can't keep them.

Authors Notes: Okay…It's been awhile. We admit it. Unfortunately real life has priority. But to make up for it, here's an interlude, and hopefully we'll have the next chapter up in a few days.

* * *

This isn't the toughest assignment ever; there aren't a lot of opportunities for advancement in following Ella around the kitchen. Three are also plenty of annoyances, like Ella being told that she had to stop putting out sweets because the Rangeman crew started gaining weight. And playing mother hen to a bunch of macho ex-military types isn't especially easy when they won't admit they need one. But there are some things that make it worth it.

Since the ban on junk food, Ella has gotten more…creative…in the lunches she creates. While she'd never actually disobey Ranger, she has no problem working around him. Some of her meals can be very close to junk food without quite crossing the line. And Ranger wonders why the weight problem hasn't entirely been resolved.

Today, we're in the kitchen just in time to hear a sudden hush come over the control room. While it's never exactly noisy at any time, there is always the general background chatter present in any office. Not to mention the fact that as a guardian angel, my senses are better than a normal human's. Today, however, I think even the computers stopped humming.

Curious, a subtle nudge in Ella's direction sends her, and by extension me, out to investigate. This is bound to be good. The last time it got this quiet, Ranger scrambled the gun range cameras while giving Stephanie Plum "private lessons." This has to be interesting.

While Ranger is again the cause of the silence, it doesn't seem to involve Stephanie. It's all everyone can do to keep from laughing. No one is stupid- or suicidal- enough to antagonize Ranger like that.

He's wearing his blank face as he gets reports from the guys on duty, almost daring someone to comment. No one does.

He's also wearing quite a bit of glitter.

Ella bursts into giggles, and I'm not far behind. We're probably the only people who could do so and survive.

Alejandro is taking this much more calmly. He's probably not far from laughter himself. He has an appreciable sense of humor, which is more than can be said of Ranger.

A curt gesture summons Tank into a nearby office. I tag along out of morbid curiosity.

"Getting in touch with your feminine side, Boss?" Tank asks as soon as the door closes.

Ranger glares. "Payback's a bitch. Is everything on for tonight?"

"All set. You ready to wire Bombshell? Don't get so involved you forget the sound's on."

Tank must have a death wish. I think Titus is ready to kill Tank himself. Ranger is not a safe person to antagonize.

I ignore them in favor of talking to Alejandro in hopes of finding out the reason for the glitter. Titus is too busy mentally kicking Tank to be of any use.

"Hey, Kitchen Fairy."

Why can no one remember my name? "Where did the glitter come from?"

"Sera." That explains it. That angel can get into almost as much trouble as her charge.

"Stephanie stopped by?" I hadn't heard anything, and I usually do. The way to ensure loyalty is to keep these boys fed.

"This happened last night when we stopped by her place to recruit her for tonight's distraction."

"You're both still this glittery from yesterday!"

"He's already had several showers. You might want to remind Ella to get more shower gel."


	8. Chapter 7

Don't Drive Faster

Authors' note: Rumors of our deaths have been greatly exaggerated. It's just harder to write when we aren't six feet away from each other. By the way, be warned, massive amounts of sugar were consumed prior to our writing this chapter. In exchange for the long wait, we're playing spot the references. Spot them all and find out the next car death.

* * *

I hate these jobs.

Ranger is busy copping a feel on Steph, under the pretence of wiring her for sound. She doesn't seem to mind. He's still glittery from yesterday, but Steph is smart enough not to mention it.

Alejandro is currently staying far away from me. I've made my opinion of these things clear, and Alejandro values his life. And his balls.

Ranger casts a significant look at Steph's…assets. "What?" she asks. "They're Nerf balls." She's very adept at Ranger non-speak.

"Babe."

Steph is dressed to kill in a red dress that masquerades as a handkerchief in its spare time. She picked it up the last time that she and Mary Lou were at Macy's, and given the current state of her love life, this distraction may be the only chance she gets to wear it for a while. Three inch FMP's and extra mascara complete her outfit.

My dress is almost identical to Steph's, but it covers a bit more. I actually don't mind it so much, but a bar full of horny, disgusting men is the last place I want to wear it.

Ranger finally steps back, (how long does it take to place a mic anyway?) and Steph's mind snaps back into focus. Ranger turns to open the door for her, and she surreptitiously checks for drool.

This is gonna be fun.

* * *

As we pull up in front of the bar, the name itself fills me with foreboding, as it indicates the status of the patrons who frequent it. Broken Arms is more than its name. It's also what happens to the unwise visitor.

I've got a bad feeling about this, and I don't need my powers to tell me that.

Saying every head turned as we walk in sounds a bit cliché, but it doesn't fall far from the truth. The Macy's hooker dress suddenly seems too high class for this dive, and I devoutly wish my hearing wasn't so good as to pick up the obscene comments many patrons are making.

Dodging hands, we work our way to the bar, where the skip luckily has an open seat beside him.

Rafe Cardones is a real winner- in the fall off the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down contest. This guy was arrested for armed robbery and multiple counts of assault and battery. The reason we're going after him is because he's always armed and usually surrounded by fellow gang-bangers. I have no idea how this guy made bail.

He leers rudely. "Can I buy you a drink?" he manages to slur. Unoriginal, but I suppose it's better than "you're hot; let's fuck."

Somehow, Steph manages to keep from throwing up and returns his interest. "Sure, what are you drinking?"

"Captain Morgan."

I can feel Steph considering getting one herself, and give her a mental kick. No more hard liquor for Steph on these jobs. Ever. I learned MY lesson after the first time. Steph, however, still requires the occasional reminder.

She orders beer in a bottle. Smart girl. I don't trust the glasses either.

I tune out their conversation- my stomach isn't that strong. I leave them just enough of my attention to alert me when something goes wrong, and turn to the rest of the bar.

Unfortunately, the Guardians in this place are just as creepy as the patrons. That's a common misconception about Guardian Angels. While many of us are moral and clean and sparkling (damn glitter!) and try to steer our charges along that path, others, well….aren't.

And this place seems to be full of the second type.

I'm kind of surprised that Cardones' angel is leaving me alone, but then he appears to be drinking as heavily as his charge.

As I'm an obviously unclaimed female, a Guardian reeking of beer, BO, piss, and smoke approaches me. Lovely.

"Hey angel, the word of the day is 'legs.' Let's go back to my place and spread the word."

Ew. I didn't think people actually use those lines. I wrinkle my nose. "I'm slightly occupied right now." I say, jerking a thumb back at Steph.

"Aww…don't be such a wet blanket. She can take care of herself for the night."

Apparently, this guy isn't going to take "no" for an answer.

"Come on baby, we can have some fun!"

"Sorry, not interested." I say, and turn around. Then I feel the hand on my boob. If he's done talking, then so am I.

I turn and deck the guy.

It's a little known Guardian Angel fact that our charges can feel the damage that we take. This explains the random aches that people get from time to time. Creepy Angel's charge obviously felt my punch, as he turns and decks the guy next to him, starting one hell of a bar fight.

Damn, I don't think Officer Angua can cause this much mayhem when it's her time of the month.

With the rest of the males in the room…occupied, I'm free to turn my attention back to Steph and Cardones.

Cardones, not wanting to miss a good fight moves away from Steph to join in the fray.

No, NO, **BAD**! If he gets away, then we have to do this again. Not gonna happen.

Steph's thinking a bit faster than I am in this case, and breaks her mostly-full beer bottle over his head. "I just wanted the pleasure of doing that myself!"

Tank, Ranger and a big, hulking RangeMan that I've never seen before materialize in front of us, Guardians in tow. Now they show up. Where were they when I was being hit on by every guy in this place?

"Sera, what the hell did you do!" Alejandro exclaimed.

"It's not my fault!"

"The hell it isn't!"

I look around and grin. "Oops."

As Tank and the random RangeMan haul Cardones to his feet, cuffs in place, Ranger looks at Steph and shakes his head.

"Babe."

* * *


	9. Chapter 8

Don't Drive Faster

Chapter 8

Author's notes: Um…oops? Sorry it's been since August since we updated, but for some odd reason, school took over. Between my nursing classes and Colleen's pro com classes, we've been going slightly crazy. So here's a nice long chapter (for us anyways) to make up for it. Also, we still don't own any of the characters except the ones you don't recognize. (Damn it!) The shoes we describe actually exist. And if a Mary Sue is someone who does things that the author wishes to do, then Karen is Colleen's Mary Sue.

* * *

Sometimes I think Iris (Lula's angel) has been talking to Maybin. Or at least their tastes in clothing are similar. She looks like a black Dolly Parton with Nymphadora Tonks' hair and a Britney Spears-gone-neon wardrobe. She's currently wearing a Day-Glo orange miniskirt and tank top, which clashes nicely with Lula's lime green getup. The Day-Glo burns. 

If you couldn't guess, Steph and I are at the bonds office, dropping off body receipts and picking up new skips. Connie is grinning, and so is her angel Imelda. Frankly, that scares me.

"Stop smiling like that. The skip can't be that bad, can it?" Steph asked.

Lula started grinning too. "She ain't that bad, but I'm going with you to make the pick up."

Steph grabs the folder and I read it over her shoulder. "Karen Diosi, 58, works at Macy's, assault and battery….with a hanger?! Did she really beat a customer with a hanger?"

"She's going through the change," Connie explained. "She was helping a customer

when-"

"She went batshit crazy!" Lula interrupted.

"And she still has a job?"

"Apparently they're desperate for warm bodies. She just got put on probation. Her managers were understanding."

"Let me get this straight. Vinnie's paying me to go to Macy's?"

"You bet, girl." Lula answered. "And I'm your backup. Only we're taking my car."

"Are you sure? I got a new car."

"You did? When did you have time to go car shopping? Weren't you working with Ranger last…damn girl, you sure you was just working?"

"What kind of car is it?" This from Connie.

"Black." Four sets of eyes stare at her. Okay, she can only see two, but Iris and Imelda are good at making themselves felt. "It's a convertible, all right?"

As Connie and Lula descend on Steph to quiz her about her "payment plan", their angels come over to me. They're (slightly) more sympathetic.

"You let her accept another car from him?"

"After what happened the last time he got her into bed?"

I just love being berated in stereo. At least they care about what's good for Steph, not what's good for them. And Ranger could be good for Steph. If he ever gets his head out of his ass.

"He says there's no price." They look at me. "I know. I'm not that naïve. I would have kept Steph from accepting it, but neither of us realized he had slipped the key in her hand until he was out the door. And Alejandro, damn him, didn't warn me. It sucks when we work at cross-purposes." And he and I are going to have a nice little conversation in the future about running tabs and deal making.

My mental Steph alarm goes off, she's evidently trying to escape the inquisition Connie and Lula have going. I swear, it won't surprise me if they bring out the thumb screws one of these times. Especially if they ever find out about the DeChooch deal.

The four of us (Steph, Lula, Iris and me) pile into Steph's new car. Technically, it's a four seater, but that's only because there's a bench seat and about six inches of space back here. I'm squished, and I'm smaller than a human. I don't know how they'll fit a skip and three angels back here. I'd fly, but I don't really want to leave Steph alone in a new car with a skip. Maybe if I fly above their heads?

Iris can't fly. I guess she'll have to ride in the trunk with the skip's. Iris is a lot of fun. She's pretty street savvy- she had to be with Lula's previous profession- and despite her charge's proclivity to leave Steph in the lurch, she's probably my best friend among angels. Mary Lou's angel and I were friends when they were in school, but she's too preoccupied with taking care of the spawn. She's lower ranked than I am now, but she's higher than where I started, and she passed along a few pointers. Between her and Imelda, angel margarita night (usually corresponding with human margarita night) is a lot of fun, even when I'm the designated charge-minder.

I take advantage of the trip to fill Iris in on last night's takedown. After Tank and Ranger walked in, things went a lot smoother. Tank and a random Merry Man cuffed the skip and practically threw him out the door, while Ranger took charge of Steph. She was still high on adrenalin, and she kept insisting that the brawl wasn't her fault. For once, she was right; shame no one believed her.

Once we got out to the parking lot, Titus looked unaccountably smug. It seems Tank won the "How will Bombshell turn this one into a clusterfuck" pool. Assholes. It's not that I mind them betting on Steph, I just mind them betting on her ability to cause chaos.

Ranger gave us a ride home, and it was rather uneventful, except for one marathon make-out session.

We get to Macy's as I'm explaining to Iris how hard it was to drag Steph out of the car without her inviting Ranger up. Neither of us is ready for that step.

Ironically, we enter Macy's through the shoe entrance. I guess that means that we have to shop for a bit before we track down our skip. I don't mind, some of the shoes are cute. Steph just found a to die for pair of FMPs and oh, Powers That Be! Lula's holding a pair of sandals with four inch clear heels that light up. They're cool when you're seven. They're not cool when you're thirty. Give me a good pair of combat boots any day.

A couple of pairs of shoes (and queries about the skip's location to the clerk, but that's unimportant) later, we had for "young designers," stopping along the way to browse in the dresses and makeup. I have no idea how they plan to do the takedown with bags full of purchases. They can use them as weapons, I guess, but that runs the risk of ruining the shoes.

We finally get to young designers, and we see the skip come out of the fitting room with an armful of clothing, muttering under her breath. She looks just as frazzled as she did in her mug shot. This is not going to be pretty.

"Mrs. Diosi?" Steph begins.

"Restrooms are over there, the fitting room is behind me, men's stuff is upstairs, there's a price scanner on that column, and it does display the correct price, and if it doesn't have a red sticker, it's not on sale." She doesn't even look up.

Steph starts again. "Mrs. Diosi, I'm Stephanie Plum with Vincent Plum Bail Bonds, and you missed your court date. We need to go down to the station and get you rescheduled."

This time she does look up. Her mouth curls up in a weird little smile, and her hand slides under the service desk.

Oh, shit.

Her hand comes up clutching a green plastic thing with a sharp looking metal spike on one end and something white/clear and plastic coming out the top. And she has a wooden hanger in her other hand.

Fuck.

Suddenly, she's around the desk, banging Lula with a hanger and trying to jab Steph with the green thing. "Mess up MY fitting room, why don't you! Put full price clothes on the clearance racks! Demand discounts!"

This woman is fucking nuts.

Suddenly, her angel comes after me and Iris. At least she's not- FUCK! Where the hell did that glaive come from!?

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Steph, you NEED to get more bloodthirsty! I don't get a weapon unless you want one!

Iris and I dodge the crazy angel's glaive. At least when she's coming after us, she's not helping her charge.

Karen's angel starts to wave the glaive in some sort of complicated pattern, obviously one last intimidation technique before she cuts us both down.

Luckily, Iris is much better back up than Lula. She smirks, pulls a big gun out of thin air, and shoots the bitch. I hope that thing has a stun setting. I'd hate to be responsible for a kinda-sorta-not really dead angel. That makes for some bad karma- something I don't need, considering Steph's luck.

Thank the Powers That Be, Lula's trigger happy enough that Iris is decently armed- and by decently armed, I mean that the gun she pulled out of thin air is longer than her arm, polished silver, and very, very scary looking. Lula might not be much in the way of backup, but Iris sure as hell is.

Iris and I are interrupted from our contemplations of the fallen angel by the skip's mad screech. Apparently, a really "smart" customer ignored the battle, and only noticed Diosi's name badge. She obviously intended to ask a question about the ugly dress she held; what question, we'll never know, because Diosi immediately changed her focus from Lula and Steph to the customer.

Fortunately, Steph took advantage of Diosi's distraction to stun her.

"Damn it Steph, whadja do that for? Now we gotta carry her out to the car!"

Steph just shoots Lula a look. "Grab her legs."

I glare at Iris. "Don't look at me. I'm not carrying her. What if she wakes up and starts swinging that ninja thing at me again?" Iris is so helpful.

The Lula and Steph drag Diosi out to Steph's convertible and shove her in the back seat. I shove Diosi's guardian into the trunk with Steph and Lula's bags, and Iris and I get into a stare-down about who is riding in the backseat.

Iris wins. I don't mind. I spend the trip to the station flying over the car.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Authors notes: We still don't own the characters, less the ones you don't recognize, although Suzy wouldn't mind having a Merry Man. Nor would Colleen (despite her boyfriend). Please don't kill us; we'll have the next chapter up in a week or so.

* * *

It's a few days later and we're after Bowman again. His bond is up in a few days and we need to get him back into the system. We've been canvassing the area around Bowman's house, trying to find out his habits so we can find him. His neighbors are either unwilling to tell us, or don't know anything about him. My money is on the latter. He's not the sort you want to get to know, or the type to inspire loyalty in his neighbors. We tried the construction site again, but we discovered he had been fired for stealing the cement truck and the huge mess he made.

The construction people had chipped the motorcycle out of the ground, and given back to Steph. She gave it back to Ranger. Alejandro said it's now on display in the garage at the Rangeman office building. I'm pretty sure that Steph doesn't know that it's now the main attraction there. This may become a new trend, where Steph's destroyed vehicles become a part of a collection to be viewed by all the Rangemen and their clients. It could become a new source of revenue for Rangeman…it might defer some of the cost of the car insurance.

My ass is starting to get numb, and I think Steph's is too; she looks about ready to get out of here. I'm bored. I hate stakeouts, there's only so much you can do while you sit in a car, hoping that the person you're waiting for will show up. We've been sitting here, doing nothing, going crazy for the last two days. I'm starting to think that the money Steph will get isn't worth the aggravation of tracking him down.

This car is fun to drive around, but it's not the most inconspicuous, or the most comfortable to sit around in for hours on end. I'm to the point where I wish that SOMETHING would happen, if only because it would break the monotony of sitting here.

We both look up at the sound of a large vehicle coming down the street. Neither of us is expecting much, but anything happening at this point is interesting. Ew. It's a honey dipper. Not the sort of excitement we were hoping for, but it's something. The truck gets closer, and I look at the driver.

Fuck! It's Bowman. Why the hell did I have to go and open my big mouth?

I'm pretty sure that Bowman hasn't realized that we are here yet, seeing as how he hasn't done anything to try to get away or hurt us yet. I nudge Steph to get her to look closer at who the driver is, and she does, her eyes widening as she recognizes him.

Unfortunately, Bowman chose that moment to look at us and I saw recognition dawn in his eyes. Shit. He aborted the turn into his driveway and sped down the street. Steph quickly turned the car on and u-turned to follow him. I grab the door, wishing for an oh shit handle as we zoom after him. I nearly go flying out of the car; with the top down, there's nothing to keep me in.

You know how I mentioned earlier that I sometimes get these feelings about when something is about to go wrong around Steph? It's screaming at me now to MOVE and I do so, letting go of my death grip on the door, and I zoom above Steph and the car.

Unfortunately, not soon enough. At times I think that The Powers That Be like tormenting Steph and me for their own entertainment. This, sadly, is one of those times.


	11. Chapter 10

Author's note: Um…oops? It's been about 4.5 years, but we still live! Honest! The excuse list: Coll's grad school, living 5 hours apart (instead of 5 feet), my working straight nights…yeah. I was reading through older fics, and I came across ours, and realized just how long it's been since we updated, and was inspired to write this chapter in the continuing adventures of Steph and Sera, and their chase after Jacob Bowman. Oh, we still don't own them, much as we would like to (well, Ranger and the Merry Men, at least)

Chapter 10

Holy. Shit. Literally. I am covered from knees to boots in human fecal excrement because I didn't eject quite fast enough. Ew, ew, ew! I don't think I've ever been so disgusted in my life, and that includes anything that went on with The Dick and Morelli, and the dude who grabbed my breast in the bar.

Flaring my wings to slow myself, I see where Steph has slammed on the brakes, managing to do a 180 in the car. Poo covers the front of the convertible, and I can see where it flew over the windshield, and oh, gross! Flecks of stool are in Steph's hair, and covering her clothes. I can already see Burgers with their phones out taking pictures and video. Poor Steph. I do NOT want to be around when Steph's mom and Abrianna hear about this, which should be within the next five minutes. I think Steph would have preferred another car explosion. I know I would.

I watch as Steph reaches with a relatively clean hand in to her purse, and turns her cell phone off, just as it starts to ring with her parents' ringtone. She drops her phone back in to her purse, and rests her head against the steering wheel, hands on the wheel on either side of her head, and I can already see the tears forming in her eyes, and I can see her gulping trying to hold back her sobs while simultaneously trying not to breathe. I can only watch as Bowman once again gets away from us, laughing it up in his honey dipper, as I offer Steph what little comfort I can.

I can hear sirens of police vehicles in the far off distance, and mentally curse, knowing that money will soon be changing hands, as Steph's latest car disaster unfurls. She doesn't need this now. What she needs is—ah. A large black SUV appears behind the convertible.

Two men dressed in black angle their way out of the SUV. I'm relieved to see it's Ranger and Bobby, with Alejandro and Kenta, Bobby's angel, in tow. Ranger nods to Bobby, who gets a biohazard kit out of the back of the SUV, while Ranger approaches Steph.

"Babe?" he murmurs, and Steph leans back against the head rest.

"Nothing hurt but my pride and dignity, Ranger," she says, but I can see the tears in her eyes. "Why me?"

Alejandro and Kenta move to stand next to me, and I mutter my own greetings. Alejandro shakes his head in bemusement, while Kenta just stares at the mess the beautiful convertible and Steph are in.

Bobby tosses Ranger a pair of gloves and one of those silvery emergency blankets before giving Steph a quick once over himself, to confirm her uninjured state. The emergency vehicles arrive, and I can see Carl Costanza, Big Dog, and Eddie relax upon visual confirmation of Steph's wellbeing. Carl, Big Dog, and a few of the firemen begin exchanging money. Alejandro, Kenta, and I shake our heads in disgust.

"Come on, Babe, we'll get you back to Rangeman and get you cleaned up in the decon shower. I'll call Ella, and she'll have your shower things and some clean clothes waiting for you." He stands her up and wraps her in the silvery blanket before leading her towards the SUV with an arm wrapped around her.

I glare as I see Morelli pull up in his police issued POS car. I can practically see the steam coming from his ears as he begins to make his way towards Steph and Ranger. They both tense, but continue making their way for the SUV. Ranger shoots him a glare that has made stronger (but wiser) men than Morelli piss their pants, and Bobby quickly moves to stand between the two and Morelli, stopping him in his tracks. I can see a vein in Morelli's forehead begin to throb.

Eddie rushes over before they get to the SUV. "You okay, Steph?" he asks. Steph jerks her head in a nod.

"We're taking her back to Rangeman to get her cleaned up," Ranger says.

"I'll get your statement from you about what happened later. I'm glad you're okay, Steph. I'll give your mom a call and let her know you are okay, and getting cleaned up." Eddie really is a good friend to Steph.

Ranger tosses the keys to the SUV to Bobby and climbs in back with Steph. Alejandro, Kenta, and I climb in the storage area of the SUV. Out of the sight of prying eyes, Steph can't hold back any more and lets out a sob. He pulls her to him and begins whispering in Spanish in her ear. Bobby meets his eyes in the rearview mirror, and we quickly take off for the Rangeman building. As Steph settles a bit, he pulls out his cellphone. A quick conversation with Ella ensures that a fresh set of clothing and Steph's toiletries will be waiting for her. I raise an eyebrow at the request for one of Steph's favorite meals, as well as dessert, for dinner tonight.

Once we get there, Ranger quickly fobs off the cameras in the path to the decon area. The room is done in stainless steel modern, and the stall showers along one wall look very cold, but I imagine it's easy to clean. I watch as Ranger carries an emotionally exhausted Steph, still wrapped in the silver emergency blanket, to the showers.

"I'll call Al and have him tow the Beemer. If you're set, I'll drop by later to check up on Bomber."

Ranger nods, and we continue to the decon area. As promised, a pile of clean clothes and a basket of Steph's toiletries sit on a counter as well as several thick, fluffy towels. He sits her down on a bench outside the shower stall and grabs soap, pouf, shampoo, and conditioner from the basket and puts it in the shower. He turns the water on deliciously hot, and steam begins to fog the area.

Ranger sits on the bench next to Steph, and unties his boots, pulling them off, then shucks his clothes in to a nearby biohazard bag. Steph watches this with her mouth agape. Can't say I blame her. I'm enjoying the free show too. Alejandro rolls his eyes at me. What? I may be a guardian angel, but I'm female, and I have eyes. Besides, if it was Alejandro stripping, I'd be staring at him too, not that I would EVER tell him that. Smug ass.

"Come on, Babe, time to get clean." He stands her up and helps her strip off her now-stiff clothes, tossing them to join his in the biohazard bag. He pulls her into the shower, allowing her to enjoy the spray, while he quickly soaps himself with the antimicrobial soap from the wall dispenser and rinses.

Ranger lathers up Steph with the same soap, and rinses. He grabs the shampoo, then conditioner, and Steph leans in to him and sighs as his strong hands massage her scalp. Then the delicious scent of Bulgari permeates the decon showers. I watch carefully to make sure Steph isn't physically injured. Not because I enjoy looking at Ranger in the shower. Really.

Alejandro casts his eyes to me. "Go get clean, Sera. I'll keep an eye on them."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "I promise nothing untoward will happen. Go."

I look in his eyes, and see the sincerity there. Alright. I'll trust him- this time. I pop into Morelli's shower to clean off myself. He'll be out for a while yet, and I don't want to get this stuff in Steph's apartment. Sure I could find an industrial decontamination place somewhere, but Morelli deserves it. Vindictive? Me? Perish the thought.

So much for this pair of jeans and these boots. Dammit, these boots JUST got to the point where they are ultra-comfy. Now I'll have to break in a new pair. I better not get blisters from this.

By the time I return, they are in the seventh floor apartment and just finishing dinner.

"Feeling better, Sere?" Alejandro asks me as I pop back in.

"Much, thanks." I watch as Steph's eyes light up at the sight of dessert- pineapple upside down cake. Ranger or Ella (or both?) were pulling out the big guns today.

Ranger's cell phone rings. "Yo." Pause. "Five." Steph rolls her eyes at his phone manners. "Babe. Bad news. Your mom is down at the front desk, raising hell wanting to talk to you."

Steph's eyes cut to the counter where her cell sat. Oops. It's still off, and will probably explode from the number of messages left on it if her mom has come to Rangeman headquarters to find her. Steph is wearing a huge black t-shirt, probably one of Ranger's, and comfy looking yoga pants. This look will not go over well with Helen (or Abrianna), I have a feeling. Steph puts down her fork, closes her eyes, and nods to Ranger, standing. "Let's get it over with."


	12. Chapter 11

A/N: Less than three months this time. Maybe this will work better alternating chapters. Being a grownup really stinks sometimes. If this seems a bit disjointed from the previous chapters, it's because we're recreating our outline from scratch, as our fic notebook disappeared in one of my last three moves. I'm sure it's in a box somewhere.

Still not ours.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

This is not how I want to spend my evening. It's been a long, disgusting day, and I want nothing more than to relax. This is one of the very few places I don't have to worry about outside threats. Ranger's men are superbly trained, and their angels are better. You try keeping a teenage to twenty-something year old who thinks he's immortal alive in a war zone. I complain about Steph's job, but actual bullets are rare.

Add to the fact that Alejandro, Titus, the kitchen fairy, and Daidalos (Hector's angel) have layered more protective spells, wards, and metaphysical booby traps on this place that I thought possible. (Never ever piss off Daidalos. He has a quick temper, a low and cunning mind, and more knowledge of traps than any three other angels combined. He is terrifying. Luckily, he likes me—says I'm spunky. If anyone else said this, he'd lose a limb or two. For him, I just go with it.) Nothing hostile is getting into Rangeman short of a metaphysical nuke.

Threats from the inside, however, are another matter, the biggest of which is Ranger, but Alejandro knows what I'll do to them both if Ranger tries to take advantage of Steph tonight.

None of this provides any comfort as I ride down in the elevator with Stephanie, Ranger, and Alejandro. The biggest threat to my sanity just walked in the front door.

Helen Plum loves her daughter. She doesn't understand her, and frequently fears for her life, happiness, and marital prospects, but she loves Steph. Abrianna has no such affection for me. I've had a seriously shitty day, (pun intended) and would happily leave Steph in Ranger and Alejandro's care for this meeting if it wouldn't give her the moral victory. Damn my pride anyway.

As the elevator doors open, Alejandro steps close and says, "I've got your back."

I smile tiredly back. "I need a vacation. I'd convince Steph to go somewhere warm, sunny, and skip-free, but she can't afford anyplace with security good enough to keep the crazies out."

"Stay here for a few days."

I stiffen. This is not a good idea. "I don't know what you're planning..."

"We aren't planning to hurt Steph. I know Ranger wants her to stay here until she catches Bowman."

"After what happened last time, there is no way I'm setting her up to be hurt again."

"Stop, Sera. You're so busy snapping at your friends, you won't see an enemy until it's too late."

I gather myself to tear a strip out of him, but slump forward instead. Dammit. He's right. "Sorry. It's been a long week."

"Relax tonight. I'll keep watch."

"Thanks."

"_De nada_. Sometime when I need a break, you can return the favor." The elevator doors open, and he nods at the rapidly approaching Zero (with accompanying angel). "Time to face the music."

Zero stops in front of us as we step off the elevator. "I put Mrs. Plum in the conference room," he said, "and Ella brought her coffee and a snack. She's a lot calmer now."

Ranger dismisses him with a nod, and we all troop down the hall to the conference room. I let Steph enter first and stand slightly behind her on her left side. I'm supporting her decisions, not hiding. Honest. Ranger stands just behind her and to her right, also showing support, but letting her handle this mess herself. Alejandro takes a similar position behind me.

Mrs. Plum stands and walks towards us, Abrianna pacing her. By her seat sat an empty mug and a plate of pineapple upside down cake crumbs. No wonder she's calmer. Ella's baking does wonders. I just wish there was an angelic equivalent for Abrianna. They stopped just inside our personal space and stared.

Steph broke first. "It wasn't my fault!"

Mrs. Plum sighed. "You weren't hurt?"

"I'm fine."

"Was your phone broken?"

"No, but to be fair, I was in the shower for a long time, and it was being decontaminated."

"The button factory is hiring," Mrs. Plum says, more out of habit than any real hope that Stephanie will change jobs, I think.

Steph must realize this too, because she relaxes a bit. "No thanks."

"You're coming to dinner tomorrow."

"Only if you keep Grandma from making comments."

One corner of Mrs. Plum's mouth quirks upwards. Yeah, I don't think she can stop Grandma Mazur from saying anything either, but Steph managed to lighten the mood. "I was barely able to keep her from coming with me. If you don't come tomorrow, she'll be here to check on you."

Ouch. That's dirty pool. I feel more than see Ranger tense beside me. "I'll be there," Steph says.

Mrs. Plum eyes Steph's clothes and turns to Ranger. "You're invited too."

Ranger opens his mouth to reply, but she cuts him off. "I'll see you tomorrow." With that, she pulls Steph into a hard hug and leaves the conference room, heading towards the building entrance. Abrianna follows, glaring at me the whole time, but she doesn't say anything. She's probably saving it for tomorrow, at which point she'll have composed a litany of my faults going back through my last three charges, but whatever. I'll be better able to deal with her after a good night's sleep.

Steph and Ranger turn to look at each other. He raises an eyebrow, and she shakes her head. "If you don't show up, Mom will hunt you down. Or she'll send Grandma Mazur."

Alejandro turns to me, and I just smile. "She's right. Do you really want Mabyn poking around here? She'd be investigating the protective spells the second she walked in the door. Powers know what she'd set off."

"Shit," both males say together.

Ranger guides Steph back to the elevator, Alejandro and I following behind.

"Sere, remember how I said you could owe me?"

I nod. I see where this is going.

"I'm calling that debt in."

I just laugh.


End file.
